


Collecting Strays

by TheEarlyKat



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, No Anders without Justic, just brief mentions of characters until later on
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-21 11:44:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4827926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEarlyKat/pseuds/TheEarlyKat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders can't turn away from the stray cats that wander campus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was mentioning the time my friends and I took in a cat for a week or after it was found running around the parking lot while we looked for its owner. Then I spotted another cat while wandering campus and decided it was a sign I had to write something. 
> 
> This might be the first...anything not angst I've written with Anders.

The cats on campus always made him think of poor Ser Pounce-A-Lot. The tabby most likely didn’t feel the heartbreak as much as Anders did whenever he had to leave at the beginning of each new semester, but he liked to believe the cat missed kneading at his chest and sleeping on his face as much as he missed the clothing full of cat hair. There was always a sort of emptiness he felt after the first several washes in the dorm’s laundromat when all the fur was finally washed away, with no cat to shed on them for the months to come. It had Anders wishing he could pluck one of the strays from the street and remind them what it was like to be full and groomed. 

There were rules against pets, but he could justify breaking them if he somehow applied the vague teachings from his introductory humanity classes to the situation. Ethics were all about keeping things fair and watching the thin mongrels dart between car tires definitely wasn’t fair. Anders was prepared to fight to keep one, too, if it wasn’t for his dorm’s resident advisor watching his every move. He’d only been trying to explain to the fellow residents in the hall that not everyone was lucky enough to nab afternoon classes and could thus stay up well into the night but somehow his complaints were more of a disturbance of the peace than the actual wall-thumping bass of the music. Fenris had been determined to catch him in the act of…anything, really, since, whether it be leaving his door ajar when he left for the vending machine after forgetting diner hours or leaving the lights of his car on in the parking lot when he returned from his part time job as a nurse’s aid at the local hospital. 

It wasn’t high school – the man couldn’t right him up and send him to the dean with a pink slip – but it was frustrating at the least. The head of the housing department was taking notice, and though she Hawke was close to the woman, there was only so much the man could convince the stubborn cow of a red head to leave him alone when her associates only kept complaining of his actions. 

He was content enough with pocketing cartons of milk from the cafeteria on campus and leaving dishes out on the less used paths for the strays to find. Anders may not have been able to keep his eye on them or make sure they were healthy, but he could try his best to feed them. There was always a warmth in his stomach when he returned the next free night to the bowls to find them empty and though there were other animals around the sparse patches of trees on campus, it was more rewarding to believe the cats were making use of it. 

Friday was one of his free nights – Dr. Justice made sure not to have any classes before the weekend for his students to have the time they needed for themselves, though they all collectively agreed he suggesting they do their assigned thesis rather than relax, and it was more often he was called to the hospital Saturday mornings than Fridays for the aftermath of Friday drinks. The dishes were empty when he’d checked earlier in the morning on his way to his social theory class and he was running out of milk in the dorm room. 

“Looking a lost in thought – all good things, right,” Hawke drawled, and Anders nearly dropped the wrap in his hands. Garrett laughed and took a hold of his hands to steady them before shifting over as the line to the register shortened. The refrigerators were just before them and the man turned to position himself between the registers and the fridges. Anders quickly pulled a carton of milk out and stuffed it in his sweatpants. 

“Thanks, love,” he mumbled, brushing his fingers along Hawke’s arm. Condensation from the carton left his hand cold and goosebumps rose over Hawke’s wrist up to his elbows. 

“Don’t be out too long. You’ve been out of the room for so long. It’s been such a _hard_ day and seeing you makes it so much better.” Anders shook his head at the wide grin he was flashed. 

“It’ll last longer if you keep that up,” he said, pushing him forward. Hawke reeled and stumbled back a step but he laughed through it and Anders paid for his meal – minus the hidden milk – and followed him around the seating area until he spotted the table Hawke had marked. Anders paused. 

It was never hard to tell which table the man was at. Or, more correctly, it was never hard to hear where he was. Varric, correctly the creative writing major, though quiet when telling his stories, left everyone near laughing. He was a good man, a good friend, and as much as Anders liked him there was more to dissuade him from joining his friend than could convince him to stay. The residential department head, Aveline, was with them, most likely following Hawke after a class in the gym on some kind of exercise the fitness majors were taught, and Anders was not up to her ignoring her pointed looks today. Merrill, sweet as she was, just rubbed him the wrong way. She saw the good in everyone, and it was that, her inability to see the injustices of the world, that he couldn’t stand. Any debate was always put into her favor to make her feel better and he was left with an incredulous frown and an apologetic look from Hawke. 

“I think I’ll eat on my way back to the room,” Anders called, already turning away. “I’ll finish my…work and we’ll talk about your _long, hard_ day.” He didn’t wait for Garrett to protest and strode out towards the door already planning an excuse for when it was brought up later that night. 

“That’s a promise,” he heard Hawke shout back, and Anders ducked his head, feeling his face heat to the tips of his ears, and shouldered his way out of the building followed by at least one whistle. 

The night air was blissfully cool on his flushed face and it felt better in his lungs on the heavy inhale. It had been a long week, the days stretching out between classes and the readings and papers each were assigned along with the thesis he had to submit at the end of the semester. It was difficult to get the work done when most of his free time was spent giving check-ups. It was a nice change of pace to be able to simply walk down the sidewalk without a destination or deadline in mind. 

Anders turned from the well-lit path back to the dorms in favor of a lesser traveled one. The concrete was cracked in some places and most of the lamp posts had burned out, but despite the chilling atmosphere Anders was calm as he approached the bend. He could have told himself it was because of the hint of autumn cooling the blazing heat of summer at last or the clear night that made the freedom of the weekend fell all that more attainable, but it was the sight of the bowl and the cats that prowled around it that had the smile growing against his face. 

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” Anders mumbled, but a stray still scampered off at the sound until he was crouching down and reaching into his sweatpants. Most of the cats had learned the routine by now – the man would come, he would talk meaningless words and pour milk, and they’d be free to enjoy it for the next few days until he returned. They let him stretch him a hand out to scratch at their matted fur from a safe distance. Anders had learned as well, which ones were okay with contact and which would hiss, and he noticed the new strays with a tug at his heart. “It’s been a little though finding time,” he continued to explain, nails scratching at one of the more friendly strays – an orange tom that made him think of his first kitten, Mr. Wiggums. He hesitated, thinking of what awaited him when he was finished here, and the cat meowed in protest at the lack of attention and he cleared his throat with a chuckle. “Right. Shouldn’t make you wait any longer.”

The carton of milk came out and even the wariest of the strays neared the bowl. Anders felt his smile straighten out at the pace in which the bowl emptied and he made a note to try to fit another cartoon in his pockets next time. It wasn’t fair that he couldn’t help all of them. 

“Next time,” Anders promised, trying his best to grin even if the animals couldn’t understand. He stood, wincing at the cracks in his knees, and nearly tripped over himself when he turned around. A yowl interrupted his own surprised shout and he glanced down to find an unfamiliar stray wrapping itself around his ankles. 

That was…strange. The newest of the cats were always too wary to approach until they found he would bring food with time. Not once, not even the first few that learned of the milk put out for them, would near until weeks later. Anders crouched down again, balancing on the balls of his feet, and trailed his fingers lightly down the cat’s back. The animals responded instantly with a soft meow and an arch of its spine and Anders dared to add more pressure, carding his hand through thick fur that was…not as matted as the others. His mouth twisted. 

He checked for a collar, hoping that the animals had just gotten out and not that someone had abandoned him but after a light check around its neck he found nothing that suggested an indoor cat, but the soft fur still had him wondering if its owner was looking for it. 

The cat didn’t protest when Anders picked it up and he lifted it to his face, looking once more for any signs of where it had come from. He couldn’t leave such a creature to fend for itself in a world it knew nothing of. It wouldn’t be right. It definitely wasn’t his selfish desires to be able to hold something to precious.

Garrett’s night was about to get a little longer.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably could have had this up sooner but uni has been hell and an illness has been traveling around campus that I unfortunately have contributed to. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was easy to get the cat into the building. The cat didn’t complain with anything more than a muffled mewl when Anders wrapped his jacket around the animal and his uneasy frown twisted into something more upset when it pawed at his side to get comfortable. The lack of mats in its fur and the roundness to its belly had led him to believe it had been abandoned only recently, but the way it trusted him to carefully carry it in the nook of his elbow made him wonder if it even was a stray. Anders would have to call the local shelters for any queries about a lost pet, but in the meantime…he let a small smile creep across his face as the cat finally finished it’s kneading.

He certainly couldn’t leave the thing out for the night to claim it if it hadn’t learned how to defend itself, and if someone was looking for their lost cat, he couldn’t have them find it scratched up or sick from a right with the other feral cats. It was a good thing he was doing, dorm rules be dammed, but he still craned his neck at the front doors to check the security guard’s office before stepping fully into the building.

The lights were on but the guard was thankfully absent – the door was always closed and the shades were drawn when they were making rounds, as if a blocked view could give the impression someone was still inside it. Anders hurried past and winced when the cat mewed at the shift in pace. He tightened his arm around it until he was certain he was out of range from the office. There would be no point if the guard came back and he was still around – even worse if it was Aveline that was on duty. 

Anders shuddered. Crossing paths with the woman wouldn’t have been the hardest part – it was getting down his own hall that would be the most trouble. At least with Aveline, he could distract her with enough talk about how it was ‘the right thing’ to annoy her into dismissing him with only a sharp look to tell him she wouldn’t be forgetting the encounter. Fenris wouldn’t give him a chance. With the way he questioned him if he was simply on his way to the bathroom, the man would immediately notice something amiss, demanding to know where he was going, where he was coming from, and eventually jab a finger against his chest and question as to why his elbow was bent at such an angle. The hypothetical conversation had his eyes rolling. Nothing would get rid of Fenris them, not even if Anders struck up an argument about how much of a slave driver he seemed with all the rules. 

That line of talk would be more counterproductive, he mused, deciding Fenris would most likely make a move at him that would cause him to flinch and drop the cat. But would it really have mattered if Fenris knew something was up anyway? Anders shrugged opened the door to the hall with his hip, muttering softly into the bulge in his coat and hoping no one was behind him to hear. The hall was blissfully empty. Music pounded from a door further down the hall and the hiss of a toilet being flushed was the only thing that met him. It meant a straight shot to his door. It also meant any sound would be more noticeable. Anders gave the cat another squeeze, hoping it felt more comforting than confining, and took the first few steps down the hall. 

The hall’s bathroom door opened. 

Anders bit his lip to keep a shout from escaping and attempting not to startle the animal in his coat nor the person coming out. A hand shot out to grab his elbow and Anders pulled back like he’d been burned, keeping his arm close and an apology on his lips until the man beat him too it. 

“I know I’m pretty startling, but that’s dramatic even for you.” Hawke’s pout had more hurt lined in the corners than the playfulness of his tone suggested and Anders couldn’t help but try to heal it. 

“I’m surprised every time, is all.” It won him a grin that Anders was happy to match and he almost let Hawke lean down to make up with a kiss until he remembered the cat beneath the excitement that always came from seeing Hawke so close. Anders shuffled away and the lines came back around his mouth. Anders shifted the weight in his arms before meeting him the rest of the way. 

“You holding onto something so important I’m not worth hugging?” Hawke asked and Anders pulled back far enough for him to see the smile. “Or I could help you carry it. Compromise.” Anders shook his head. There was another way to help him, however. Anders grabbed Hawke by the elbow with his free hand and tugged him to walk in front of him. 

“I do like this idea better.” Garrett flashed him a grinned, swinging his hips with just a little more force than necessary for walking and Anders had to remind himself to keep his other arm holding the cat tucked safety against his chest. “You going to make good on your promise?” Hawke asked. He turned on his heel to walk backwards and Anders lifted his eyes from his butt. Hawke laughed and was rewarded with a shove on his shoulder. It was mostly to keep the bulk of the large man in front to hide him from the view of anyone coming down the hall, but he had to admit the view was also nice. He bumped his hip against Hawke’s to slide past him when he reached their room. The cat meowed in protest.   
“About that…” His smile turned sheepish the further Hawke’s brow rose towards his hairline. Anders checked over his shoulder before shooing Hawke inside and closing the door, turning to press his back against the wood. Hawke groaned and it was Anders’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “What?” He glanced down to see if a paw or tail had escaped the confines of his jacket and tilted his head when he found only a small lump where the feline was still hidden. 

“That’s not your bedroom face. That’s your ‘I-Didn’t-Do-It’ face. You only smile like that when you’re about to do something you shouldn’t do. Did you fight with Aveline again?” Hawke asked before Anders could defend himself. 

The smaller man rolled his shoulders, indignant. “Not today. I was thinking about it – but not for any reason you’re most likely thinking about,” he cut in, watching Hawke take a breath. Garrett pressed his lips into a thin line and Anders took it as a chance to explain. “I went to put more milk out for the strays-“

“And Aveline found you?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “Why do you think I only fight with Aveline?”

“Fenris, then?”

Anders slapped the name away with a wave of his hand. “Will you listen? I put the milk out and there was this one…it was healthier than all the others. I thought it was abandoned only a few days ago but…I don’t think it was a stray, Garrett. It doesn’t have a collar but it could be a runaway and…” He lifted his gaze from where it’s fallen to the floor before Hawke’s feet to look at him. The man’s face was tight as a knowing smile and a wary frown warred for space. 

“And you left it out there like you should because Aveline would kill you before Fenris could threaten you again, right?” His chuckle didn’t make his light tone any more serious and Anders breathed a small sigh. It wasn’t as if this was the first time Anders had tried to bring a stray in. He’d fought the first few months freshmen year to allow pets other than just fish on campus, and broached the topic more than once with Hawke after when his proposal was shut down. The idea of him trying again wasn’t surprising.   
“Of course not,” and Anders laughed with him.

“Of course not,” Hawke repeated, and neared with his arms held open. Anders stepped into the offered embrace and loosened his hold on the cat until a fuzzy head poked out, tail sweeping against Anders’ stomach. Hawke rested his head on his chin. “Cute.” His next laugh rushed past his ear and sent a shiver down his spine. “I bet you have a name picked out and everything.”

Anders paused for only a moment. “Lord Whiskers.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> College is literally killing me but this thing is so much fun to write. Thank you for enjoying it with me!

Hawke was behind him, propped up against the wall, and Anders shifted to keep his shoulder from digging into his chest knowing Hawke would never complain. He stretched his legs out on front of him, toes pointed at the wall and ankles past the limit of the small mattress, and carefully tried to arrange his legs within the confines of the bed without disturbing the cat nestled in his lap. 

Inside with the light helping much more than whatever glow the moon could provide outside, its fur was a sandy brown with darker markings around its dark eyes. Its whiskers were long and wild and Anders smirked. The name was fitting. Hawke seemed to think so too when he opened his mouth again.

“ _Lord_ Whiskers?” he hummed. Anders felt Hawke move behind him and he lifted himself up just a bit away from Garrett in case he really was hurting him with the pointy shoulders, but he only felt a sharp tug on his jacket before he was pulled back to rest against the warmth of his stomach. Hawke waved a feather in his peripheral and Anders pouted, reaching around to find any holes in the feathered lining of his hood. “Won’t that make Pounce jealous?”

Anders lifted a hand away before the cat could jump at the teasing feather and scratch up his skin. He paused when he found the cat reaching for the make-shift toy, paws outstretched, but with a severe lack of claws. He covered up his worry by pressing his hand to his heart. “Ser Pounce-A-Lot knows it’s my goal to pet every cat. We’ve had a very serious discussion freshman year – I was allowed to see other felines and he wouldn’t get upset. It’s an open ownership.”

Hawke dropped the feather after another clumsy leap by Lord Whiskers in favor of wrapping his arms around Anders and he felt the laugh rumble against his spine. The cat watched the feather drift slowly, eyes moving with it, before launching itself from the bed and back into Anders’ lap. He was very grateful, then, for the declawing, when it landed on his chest and batted at the toy, imagining all the pinpricks he would have to endure. 

“What about me? I don’t get a say in who you can and can’t pet?” His hands traveled down from his chest to his stomach. Anders shivered when they left to rest at his hips. “Am I just chopped nug to you?”

Anders snorted and tilted his head to press a kiss to the side of the man’s cheek. “Maybe nug pie. You know how much I like that.” 

Hawke hummed again, agreeing, and tightened his hold around his waist. “That still makes me a nug.”

Anders loved the feeling of the cat in his lap, even if it’s jumping from leg to leg and batting at his toes, feather forgotten, but he loved the feeling of fingers digging into his hips more. He hoped that, though a housecat, it doesn’t watch them like Pounce when he fulfills his promise for the night. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

It’s not his alarm that woke him but the unexpected ringing was still just as unpleasant and Anders still smacked his hand around his desk to find the source of the noise. Light filled up a corner of the desk and he grabbed the offending, screaming, item and brought it close to his face, hissing at the light, to find someone calling his cell. He slid off the lock screen to quiet it and found the noise continuing. Lord Whiskers was on the other side of the room yowling his own disapproval of being woken. 

Anders grumbled and peeled the thin blanket off, making a face when it pulled at the sweaty junctions of his sternum and his hips. Hawke shifted beside him, one hand moving across the now empty space and exhaled heavily when his hand met only empty air, but his eyes remained closed and Anders crossed the room before he could wake up properly.   
“Yes?” Anders finally remembered the phone and he sandwiched it between his ear and shoulder to keep his hands free for petting the cat in silence. He was none too happy about the call, either, but he wasn’t keen on expressing his displeasure when he hadn’t checked jus who was calling. His voice was still gravely despite his attempt at being polite.  
“Anders? I’m so sorry for calling – I know it’s late,” a woman replied, hard to hear over the background noise of beeps and clicks and mutterings. It made him think of the hospital. Lord Whiskers finally quieted into a low purr and made it easier to hear and the clunky sound of the vending machine he knew was stacked in the corner of the main foyer was hard to misplace. Anders resigned himself to finding his jacket. “There was a car accident – weekends right? One of the regular staff called in sick. I’ve tried everyone before you. Can you come in? Just for an hour or two? Until we can find someone else to replace the other desk workers or things settle down?”

The yes was already on his lips and the jacket already halfway zipped on before she finished. He would have agreed no matter the time. If he had the power to help someone, it was his job to do so – even if it meant just working the desk. He wasn’t a real nurse like the others, not even remotely close, but he enjoyed helping people and an ethics degree could only get him so far. The least he could do was make sure the people who needed help got the right treatment. 

“Let me get my…things,” he answered, kicking a pile of clothes in a vain attempt to find his pants in the bundle now that the cat wouldn’t be making any more noise. He hung up after a sincere thank you, pulled on what he hoped was his own shirt and not Hawke’s, scribbled a note, and left. 

To bump right into Fenris. 

The man was, not surprisingly, scowling. The wild, uncombed hair was unexpected, until Anders checked the time on his phone and found it was a perfectly reasonable time to be scowling at being woken. 

“I’m really not in the mood for this – and it looks like you aren’t either,” Anders said, keeping his eyes away from the shorter man’s face in hopes of looking at least a little bit less insufferable. “So we can both pretend we’re not standing here and you can go back to bed and I can go do…whatever I have to do.” He flashed a grin, still not meeting his eyes.   
“There was a noise, Anders.”

Anders scratched at his chin with a sigh, facing warming, and tried not to think little yowling cat thoughts. “You’re a little late to that party but I think we were both pretty quiet this time-“

Fenris’ scowl deepened and Anders took a step back. His eyes widened when Fenris followed him. The door wasn’t fully closed yet and Anders didn’t need the man seeing Lord Whiskers…or for Lord Whiskers to come investigate. 

“Where are you going?”

Anders rolled his eyes. “I got a call from the hospital. Understaffed. Do you want people to die, Fenris? Is this what this is? You want me to feel bad for keeping my cellphone on at night and letting people die from car crashes?” He tsked and managed to shut the door, lip twitching in the slightest flinch in hopes he didn’t just catch Lord Whisker’s paw in the doorway. 

Fenris finally shuffled out of the way by a fraction but it was enough space to let Anders feel like he could breathe again. He exhaled, shoulders dropping, and Fenris watched the movement. “We’re getting along real well, tonight, aren’t we? Aveline would be so proud.”

“Don’t push. I’ll still expect you to explain why you woke half the hall at three in the morning.”

“Hospital, Fenris,” Anders answered. He pushed past him, knocking against his shoulder with more force than necessary to get away. He walked a little faster than necessary, too.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which fluff gets in the way of everything else

Fenris was going to find the cat.

Anders ran a shaky hand through his hair, pretending it was from the rush of the night and not the thought of the man catching a glimpse of a dark tail in the closing door and forcing his way in to investigate with his Maker-forsaken skeleton key. Anders dropped his head in both his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. Fenris would probably barge in even without seeing anything. He’d wake Hawke, Garrett would make some unpleased noise as loud as he could because Garrett was nothing if not loud, and startle the cat into darting for cover for all the world to see. Either that or Fenris would see a very naked Hawke, cover his eyes, and not see the cat. 

His mouth twitched into a smile small at the thought and he sat up straighter, tightening the ponytail he’d dislodged, before focusing on the work he was supposed to be doing. The car accident was as bad as the tremor in the poor nurse’s voice made him think. It was no surprise that at least on party had been drinking and veered into the medium, and practically t-boned another car in the attempt to back onto the road. Everyone involved was, amazingly, no worse for wear other than a few concussions, a cracked collar bone, and laceration upon laceration. But just because the accident hadn’t been serious didn’t mean it was something to be lax about. 

Anders wasn’t a doctor. He didn’t have medical training beyond basic first aid and CPR, but a lack of qualifications didn’t mean he couldn’t sort paperwork or point family members to room numbers or bathrooms – and there were plenty of all. The rush didn’t die down even when he overhead the nurses at the water fountain sighing in relief about being in the clear no was he called to say they’d found a replacement and he resigned himself to working until the morning shift rolled in, wondering if they’d remember him long enough to give him a break and if Hawke was taking care of Lord Whiskers. 

What if the door had been left often and the cat strolled out?

Anders shook his head and shoved the file drawer with his knee hard enough to leave a sting. The door was shut, Fenris would be more aggravated with a naked Hawke to see a cat, and Lord Whiskers would greet him when he was released at sunrise. 

\-------------------------------------------

Everything was as it had been before he left, but that didn’t stop Anders from jogging back to the dorms after hastily pulling into the parking lot without checking to see if it was even student reserved or taking the steps two a time to his floor. The security officer’s door was shut and locked for the night, leaving him able to stride through the doors without needing to reassure a questionable glance. Fenris wasn’t stalking the halls awaiting his return, and Anders briefly brought back the thought from earlier in the evening shift of the man unlocking his door. 

He couldn’t calm himself so close to his room, especially knowing Fenris had, in the past, gone into his room with only a flimsy shield of ‘reasonable doubt’ just because all the political signs disagreeing with marriage equality had gone missing when the debate began a few years back. That hadn’t mean they had to all end up in Anders’ room – never minding the fact they did – but Fenris had suspected him from the beginning and never stopped accusing him for every little action. What would he do if he had solid evidence?  
Anders rested his head on the door, the long night of sorting files and reassuring families adding to the fear of losing Lord Whiskers and the frustration that came with even thinking of fighting Fenris. He didn’t notice the door’s lack of give as he leaned on it until he searched his pockets for his keys. His hand paused above the door handle and he grinned. 

Hawke was, indeed, naked, but it was the only part his wild imagination had gotten right. He sat up in bed, half the sheet pooling in his lap with the rest on the floor. Lord Whiskers tugged at it and more spilled off the edge and Hawke laughed, tugging back. Anders closed the door behind him before anyone could come down the hall and see it and he let out a breath as soon as it clicked shut. 

“I think you’ve picked up a dog, not a cat,” Garrett said, pulling the sheets back up onto the mattress. Lord Whiskers held a corner in his teeth and meowed in protest when he couldn’t claw his way up with it. Anders moved forward to scoop him up and the cat settled as a comfortable weight in his arms. He chided himself for the tears that pricked his eyes but he’d been so worried and after the long shift the feeling of smooth fur and a warm animal in his arms was more than he could ask for. Hawke leaned forward to snag him and bring him back into bed and Anders thought he might actually let them spill. 

“Don’t you insult him like that,” Anders scolded, but he couldn’t keep an edge to his voice no matter how playful with a cat in his arms and Garrett at his back. Anders relaxed against him and yawned before cupping his hands around the feline’s ears. “Don’t listen to him, Lord Whiskers, he didn’t mean it.” Lord Whiskers lifted a paw to push a hand away and Anders run his fingers lightly down his back, face softening when the cat lifted its spine to meet him.

Hawke scoffed behind him. “It was a compliment.”

Anders shook his head. “Compliments aren’t supposed to hurt, love.” 

Hawke laughed and stretched his legs, thighs pressing close to Ander’s own, and Anders wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of trailing his hand down one shin. He crossed his arms instead and buried further into the warmth of the man’s chest, smirking when he felt the puff of hot hair of Hawke's wince on his neck when his shoulders wedged themselves in his abdomen. Lord Whiskers noted the lack of free hands to pet him and jumped off the bed to sniff at the rest of the clothes still piled on the floor.  
“Didn’t see you when I woke up,” Hawke said, adjusting himself beneath Anders. 

Ander shrugged and Hawke gave up trying to find a comfortable way to place the thinner man against him and nudged him to lay on the bed. Anders snorted and pulled Hawke’s arm around his waist. “The hospital called me. They were short staffed for a weekend and I was the only one to pick up.”

Hawke’s arm was warm against him and Lord Whiskers purred from somewhere across the room, likely huddled in Hawke’s forgotten pants. It was barely sunrise and it was coaxing him back to sleep. 

“I’ll bring you breakfast?”

Anders slapped at his hand to quiet him. “Bring back more milk.”


	5. Chapter 5

Garrett either had enormous pockets or was much more efficient at sneaking things out of the cafeteria without attracting suspicion, Anders mused, as he stacked cartons on milk in the mini-fridge huddled beneath the bed. It must have been easy to stuff a handful of then in his jacket, the edges muffled by his already large frame. They stuck out against his wiry build and Anders never tried to steal more than two at a time. It made it harder to feed the strays, but he would rather risk it than to be caught and revoked cafeteria rights. 

Lord Whiskers rubbed against his legs and Anders finished putting away the last of them, keeping one in his pocket for later, to give him an affectionate scratch between the ears. The cat meowed, shoving its head against his hands, and he chuckled. “If you’re trying to squeeze some milk from me early, it’s working.” He stood from his crouch, knees cracking, and dug in his backpack for a can of food he and Garrett picked up over the weekend. He felt the slightest tug of betrayal with the sound of the metal top popping open, knowing he should be doing this for all the strays, but even with his part time job he didn’t have enough to feed every cat on campus. “I’m just keeping you healthy for whenever we find your owners, aren’t I?”

Lord Whiskers was more interested in the open can than answering, and Anders didn’t blame him. He’d had a long shift at the hospital – whoever took over after his emergency shift over the weekend fiddled with the files and he was sent running around to correct the mistakes – and a lengthy battle with Aveline about time management when he returned, bleary eyed and hair tousled from countless, frustrated musings, when he caught her on the way to the gym to meet up with Hawke for their weekly exercises. He could have killed for a hot pocket and coffee just about then – and cats had a very busy schedule too, chasing after bugs and chewing on the edges of his textbook. Anders gave the cat another pat before finding a much deserved hot pocket and tossing it into the microwave. 

“We’ll go see all those friends of yours after, yeah?” The flimsy cardboard was hot and he nearly dropped it before he could shove it into his mouth. He would have eaten it off the floor if he really had too, but the burn from the cheese across his fingers was more preferable to whatever it might have picked up on the carpet. Lord Whiskers gave an affirmative sneeze before licking at the mess on his knuckles. 

Anders shoved the rest into his mouth before the cat could claim any more. Brown fur became mottled orange and he blinked hard to clear the image. Ser Pounce had the habit of stealing any food either unwatched or loosely held, not Lord Whiskers. He picked the cat up, settling it close against his chest in the crook of his arm and reminded himself Lord Whiskers was lighter than the one waiting for him at home, but the furry pressure was comforting all the same. 

He hated that he silently wished no one was asking around for a lost pet when he finally found the courage to call the shelters. 

“We have more important things to attend to first, though, don’t we,” he asked, Lord Whiskers batted at his chin and he grinned. He could be selfish for one day more, right?

That meant keeping the cat quiet while he zipped his coat up, gently nudging paws out of the way of before fur could catch and shifting the lump in his arms until it looked less cat shaped and more…something else shaped. Anders grabbed a textbook and wedged it in the crook of his arm as a second thought. Aveline may have been busy at the gym for the next few hours, but he still had to be careful, especially if-

“Where are you going?”

“Speak of the devil,” Anders muttered. He lifted his shoulders without turning around. He didn’t have to to know the scowl that would be spreading across Fenris’ face. He waited, hoping the man would walk away, and he groaned when no footsteps faded past him. “Well, gee, it’s the middle of the day! Where would I go? The grocery store? The bowling alley?” Anders flashed a grin over his shoulder. “You have an itinerary all planned out?”

The scowl only deepened. “Keeping things quiet is on the top of the list.”

Anders shrugged. “Hey, same here. So if you just want to take two steps to the left I can be out of your hair and your list is practically complete. Unless you have other busy people to interrogate?” Fenris only planted his feet more firmly beneath him and crossed his arms. Anders felt his smile slip. “Let’s go finish up our tasks and we’ll-”

Fenris grabbed a hold of his shoulder as he tried to squeeze between the man and the wall and cold seeped through his jacket. A shiver ran down his spine. He was tempted to shove it off and march down the hall, shouting anything that came to mind as loud as he could and see Fenris keep ‘the peace’ then, but it would hinder him getting to the cats than it would help him feel better – and yelling would make him feel a lot better. 

“Where are you going?” Fenris demanded, and Anders swore he could feel the grip tighten. 

“Out – if you’d let me.” Anders did twist out of the hand that held him still. “Not to steal anything this time, I swear, if that’s what you want to hear. I’m-” 

Fenris shook his head and pointed at his chest. “Where are you going with that?”

“My coat?” Anders rolled his eyes. “It’s bloody cold out, what-” Anders patted his jacket and his argument died in his throat with a strangled noise when he felt the severe lack of a lump against his side. He glanced down and felt the color drain from his face with a wave of dizziness when he found Lord Whisker’s tail waving casually back and forth against his pant leg. Anders shoved the tail back into his coat and tried to cover the disgruntled mew with a cough.

“Anders.”

The man let out a weak, nervous chuckle and glanced away from the glare that was a quickly becoming more accusatory than he was used to. Usually he felt too much in the right to notice the heat of it on his face. He couldn’t find the words to make a convincing argument and he swore he heard the smile growing on Fenris’ face; a sharp crack of ice splitting. “I-it’s not what you think?”

Fenris was going to take Lord Whiskers away. There was no need to lie to himself now. When Lord Whiskers was just a secret, it was easier to believe nothing would change. He’d have the cat until…until a shelter called him back or they saw a missing pet poster and Anders would feel a faint bit of sorrow at losing the cat but at least it was going back to where it belonged. Nothing else would take it away if it was kept a secret. And oh how much he wanted Lord Whiskers to stay a secret, a hidden smile in his thoughts when classes became too much or Dr. Justice was too hard. He’d forgotten how much Ser Pounce meant when he didn’t constantly have thick fur to bury his face in instead of his hands when he thought too much at night about it all. Lord Whiskers couldn’t be taken. 

“Do I have to call Aveline?”

Anders’ inhale was more shaky than mocking. “And ruin her fun of sweating and exercising? What a party pooper.” He wouldn’t let Fenris have him, if only just to keep the man from thinking he was right. He wouldn’t let that infuriating smirk get any wider. He tightened his hold on the cat squirming against his side and smoothed back the hairs falling from their tie with the other. “I – we – we’re starting this new thing at the hospital. Some kind of animal therapy – for the kids, I think.” Lord Whiskers kneaded at his side and Anders unzipped his coat far enough for the cat to peek its fuzzy head out. Anders rubbed a finger behind its ear and the soft purr against his chest calmed him enough to pick up the rest of the lie. “Have to get them used to people first, right? Bright lights, loud noises, tight spaces.”

Fenris’ smirk fell and Anders felt his chest loosen enough to take a breath. The taller man shifted on his feet and Anders almost laughed. Had Fenris taken the story?  
“Aveline will be told,” Fenris said, voice as stern as it had been before, and Anders coughed at the tickle the laugh left in his throat, “that you will have a cat on campus.” Anders’ eyes widened. “But I do not want to see that thing in the dorm again.”

“That’s more like it.” Anders’s smile stretched far across his face in his relief and he skipped forward when Fenris stepped out of the way. “Papa is the best liar in the universe,” he babbled to Lord Whiskers as soon as he crossed into the main hall. He assumed the strong purr in response was a good one. He’d just have to keep up the lie until they found his owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Could I cut the number of chapters in half? Sure. Could I write 2,000+ words within a timely manner? Probably not. I might not be able to get another chapter out until next week. Weekends are when I have the most time to write and I'll be traveling quite a bit next weekend. I'll see what I can do, though. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

“We’re in hot water now, aren’t we,” Anders mumbled, more to himself than the cats flicking their tails impatiently before him. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire? Couldn’t stand the heat but stayed in the kitchen?” A light brown tortoiseshell was the first to move forward and Anders picked her up with a soft tut before she could get to the milk in his pocket. The cat gave a displeased mewl but allowed Anders to sigh into her fur. Lady Elegant was one of the more accepting of the strays, and he took full advantage of her hospitality, though it only went so far. She flicked an ear against his cheek. “You don’t even care, do you, Lady?”

The other strays broke their unspoken line and Anders heaved a dramatic breath in resignation when a darker male, almost the same shade as Lord Whiskers, kneaded at his pants. Claws bit through the fabric and Anders winced. He shooed the feline away – Mittinsterial, he thought his name was – with a nudge from his thigh. 

“Will you care when mean ol’ Fenris finds out I’m a big fat liar and tells Aveline so I’m kicked out? There won’t be any milk and then we’ll see who whines, won’t we?”

Lord Whiskers pressed against his side, already fed and interested more in the scents of the other cats around the bowl than the milk itself. Anders shifted to scratch him along his back and bit his lip when his arm brushed against the phone in his other pocket. He’d called the shelters on the way to refill the bowl with the milk Hawke…liberated for him, and was met with bemused apologies when none could offer him any recent missing pet reports. One went as far as to suggest turning the cat in until one was called in, and Anders had hung up feeling more than a little guilty about it. But if the purpose of hiding Lord Whiskers from Fenris was to keep him, he wasn’t about to turn him into a shelter. His flimsy lie, as dangerous as it was, was still a better alternative to putting Lord Whiskers in a cage, alone and ungroomed, to wait for who knew how long to be picked up by a stranger that could know little to nothing about pet care. 

“You and Ser Pounce would like each other,” he mused to himself. Winter break was only a few weeks off, now that the idea was forming. 

One of the strays knocked the bowl over when it was empty and Anders gave it a lopsided grin. Maybe he could adopt all of them. If he could hide one cat easily, another two or three wouldn’t cause much more trouble. Garrett hadn’t even been that upset with Lord Whiskers and his father never noticed whenever he returned between semesters – what were a few more cats? “Doesn’t that sound nice?” Lord Whiskers grabbed a hold of his finger and he smiled down at the stretched paws keeping him close. “Get everyone together in a big warm house with-”

“Are these them?” Anders’ hand stilled in Lord Whisker’s grip and the cat stretched out to remind him of just what was more deserving of his attention. Anders tore his hand free, wincing despite the lack of claws locking him in place, and flipped the empty bowl back over before hurriedly stuffing the empty carton back in his pocket. He made a face when leftover milk soaked into his pants and ignored the wet spot as he climbed to his feet. The pants could be washed – the cats couldn’t take the risk of their feeding spot found. “There’s so many more than I thought!”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Anders began, and the knot in his stomach unwound slightly at the sight of Merril picking her way towards him. A stick caught in her flip flops and he allowed himself a brief moment to wonder why she dared to wear such footwear in the cold weather before thinking up a better excuse. 

“I see them sometimes when I go to my night classes but I never counted them. I don’t think I could count them but you have names for all of them!” Anders crossed his arms and Merril twisted her hands in the bandana wrapped around her neck in a makeshift scarf. “Am I babbling? I thought it’d be a nice introduction – that is babbling.”

Anders tried to give her a smile but the more time spent with all the strays in view, with Lord Whiskers in view, was making the visit from his friend less friendly. “Did you want something?”

“I had a question about the assignment for social theory and Hawke said I could find you with the cats.” Anders spluttered and she giggled. “Everyone knows you feed them. It’s a nice thing. They need someone to look out for them.”

He shifted on his feet. “Yes, well…” He knew it was well known what he did, but he hadn’t known people knew where they gathered. “Don’t tell anyone?”

She nodded enthusiastically, her small ponytail bouncing. “I won’t even tell that you have one in your room! Is that him?” She slapped a hand over her mouth and Anders guessed he looked as shocked as he thought. He felt the blood rush from his face and his eyes open almost painfully wide. “I won’t tell!” she repeated.

Lord Whiskers finally rolled back onto his paws and sat on Anders’ feet, tail brushing against his laces, and Anders leaned down to pick him up, holding him tighter than necessary. If Merrill knew, the secret could be out within hours – unless she told Isabela and then word would get out in minutes. She was a good friend, but not one to tell secrets with. Her babbling overcame her and things best left unspoken spilled from her mouth at some point. Professor Justice would never give him a moment’s rest after the doodle he’d shown Merrill of the man, bald head the most prominent feature of the drawing. 

Merrill moved forward to pet Lord Whiskers and Anders nearly pulled away from her outstretched hand. He relaxed his grip instead and smiled softly when the cat purred as attention was once again focused on him. 

“Fenris found me with him,” he finally offered. 

“And he let you keep him?” Merrill’s tone was incredulous and Anders snorted. 

“Of course not! He wouldn’t let me keep that blanket because it offended his eyes if you remember.” He chuckled at the memory. “I made up this story that we were starting this new program at the hospital – rescuing cats to get them to hang out with patients and such. The man actually bought it.” He snorted again and Merrill’s hand moved from Lord Whisker’s head to Anders’ arm, eyes bright when he raised a brow at her. “What?”

“Why not make it not a lie?” Anders’ brows rose higher as she explained. “It’s a good idea, Anders. Fenris approved of the idea if he didn’t kick the cat out already, right? You could keep one or two all the time and no one could do anything about it if it was for the hospital. Not even Aveline could say anything without talking to the hospital first. And I’m sure all the patients there would love to have something soft and fuzzy when they’re scared.”

Anders nearly forgot Lord Whiskers was still in arms until it yowled in complaint about his grip tightening again. He let go and the feline jumped to the ground to lick at its fur, ignoring those that would rather squeeze him than pet him. Anders hadn’t been able to help it. Merrill was right – he hoped. Fenris hadn’t outright banished the cat. From the dorms, maybe, but if he was seen with a cat on campus there wouldn’t be a need to fear the RA hunting down proof of insubordination. The other cats would have a place to stay warm and dry and fed…he could see Lord Whiskers whenever he was called in. 

“What do you say?” Anders asked the cat. He, unsurprisingly, wasn’t bothered to offer an opinion. Anders took it as an agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long. Uni's become so chaotic and stressful as the semester drags on and writer's block has hit me hard with the stress. I've tried writing other things to break it but I think doing something fluffy and calming helped work through it. I have the feeling things will only get busier as it draws to a close within the next few weeks so I can't promise the final chapter will come any sooner than this. Thank you so much for being patient and bearing with me.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Less of a chapter and more of an epilogue to tie things off. Thank you guys so much for putting up with the tiny hiatus when things got busy and continued to stick around. Enjoy!

Anders finished smoothing the band aid on Hawke’s nose before slipping off the chair and leaning forward to press his lips to the same area. 

“How you managed to get a paper cut there is beyond me, love, but I appreciate the visit,” he said, finally breaking free of the kiss Garrett was deepening to something very much work endangering to toss the wrapping in the bin behind the counter. Lord Whiskers lifted himself from his spot beneath the desk lamp and followed the man along the edge of the counter. 

“I’ll go to any length to see a man in uniform,” Hawke answered with a grin, and Anders flushed a shade of red that clashed with the dull green scrubs he donned for work in the morning. The man refused to look up and rubbed at his cheek with his knuckles as if he could rub the color away. His other hand remained stubbornly buried in the cat’s fur, and Hawke was content with taking the hand from his face and pressing a softer, much more appropriate kiss, to his fingers. The corner of Anders’ mouth twitched. “I’m glad you got to keep him.”

Anders nodded and he left his hand in Hawke’s even when the grip around his fingers loosened. “I was a bit surprised, but the place is small enough that there aren’t many channels to get through and keeping animals in a hospital hasn’t been unheard of, and Lord Whiskers is just the prettiest kitty, how could anyone say no?” He laughed when the cat batted at his nose when he leaned down to coo at him. 

Hawke chuckled lightly and finally let go, placing their hands on the counter. “How are the others doing?”

Anders took his hand back and ran it through his hair with a breath. “Well enough that no one’s told me no, yet. Might have to do with the ‘no tack backsies’ I put in the request form.” He flashed Hawke a grin. 

Garrett’s stretched thin across his face. “I just don’t know how much longer I can keep Aveline from breaking the door down. She talks about it all the time when we meet up for the gym. Says Fenris keeps telling her about some meowing. ‘He’s going to get a taste of that fisting prowess he’s always gloating about’. I couldn’t help laughing and she wouldn’t talk to me for two days.” 

“They just need to get used to people.” Anders bit his lip, teeth worrying at it until he thought he tasted blood. He’d worked hard – maybe not that hard – to convince the higher ups to allow the cats to stay. He’d worked harder to convince the strays to sleep in his room for a night, to get used to the noise and scents of carpet under their feet and soft touches for the first time. The thing he needed was for Fenris to find out, to learn he’d been right all along. 

Hawke caught the rising panic on his face and cleared his throat loud enough for him to hear over the swirling thoughts of the RA that never gave them rest. “Aveline has to look mean for her job, you know? And having to look into every complaint Fenris makes would make anyone pissed.” 

Anders tried for a thankful look but returned his gaze back to Lord Whiskers. “It’s like you want me to make friends with her.”

Hawks shrugged with an exaggerated gesture of his broad frame. “I wouldn’t think too much of it. Andpawstre used the litter box this morning.”

That turned his attention away from the cat quickly taking all of his focus. Lord Whiskers’ tail swept back and forth at the sound of the stray’s name. Despite the wary nature of the cats and Lord Whiskers’ aversion to their hostility, as they’d relearned what it meant to be a house pet, they’d begun to become quick friends. There were always more strays to take in, and such little room, but it was a start. 

“And Mittinstreal?”

“Still tearing up the bed frame.” Hawke shook his head before pulling a face. “Which he’s probably doing right now.” And Fenris would find the claw marks, put two and two together, and still their door would be broken down. Garrett seemed to have the same through and his lips pulled back in an awkward smile. “Thanks for the tlc, love,” he said, leaning over the desk one more, batting his eyelashes. Anders picked Lord Whiskers up and Garrett surprised the both of them by planting a kiss on the cat’s chest. Lord Whiskers mewled and tried to scratch at his face with clawless paws. 

“We need more milk,” Anders called before he could walk out the door. It wouldn’t be long now before the cafeteria could keep its supply.


End file.
